Unlucky 13 - A New Friday the 13th Story
by thisendsintragedy
Summary: Move over, Jason Voorhees. We got a new Camp Crystal Lake Killer in town. Everyone, please let me introduce you to Jessa Voorhees. Jessa, welcome to Camp Crystal Lake. We think you're gonna like it here.
1. Intro

Welcome all to a "rebooted" version of a timeless classic.

The Dark Ones are not happy with the _Friday the 13th_ movies.  
They thought making Jason into a celebrity would frighten the masses, but never dreamed we would become cult followers of the hockey-masked killer. Now after Hollywood has made a mockery of Jason's legacy, The Dark Ones decided to take matters into their own hands.

Jessa Voorhees has taken up the machete and is now Camp Crystal Lake's killer. Sharing a body with Jason, she inherits not only his powers but the beloved Mama Voorhees as well as an inexplicable connection to the new Freddy Krueger - his grandson, Fry. After she discovers her new identity, she learns her and Fry are demanded by The Dark Ones to bring fear back into our lives - and find this generation's new Michael Myers. Join Jessa as she comes to terms with her new life, explores her attraction to Fry, and discovers the shadowy secrets that await them on their trek to Haddonfield.

This is a new vision of the horror classics, written as a dedication to my boyfriend - the most loyal Friday the 13th fan I know - and also to Kane Hodder - the true face behind Jason's mask.

* * *

*Author's Notes:

\- This is a _slight_ cross-over with _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ and _Halloween_ , but I chose not to categorize that way due to giving both of those franchises new characters and stories as well. Jason is a very minor character in this story, as is Mama Voorhees. It is mostly centered around Jessa, but original elements from the series will be thrown in here and there.

\- This is rated M for: Violence, sex, drugs, and all the bad stuff you pretend your children will never know about.

\- The goal of this story is meant to come off as a horror novel with a twist of stupid humor and possibly a little romance thrown in. Because why can't serial killers have all the fun?

Hope you enjoy.

Now on with the story...


	2. Chapter 1

_Drip, drip._

Blurry lights wink in and out of my eyes along with the contant splashes, and my head pounds along as if there's a little person in there going to town on the snare drum. Grumbling, I move to sit up and snap my eyes open at the hard floor beneath me.

 _What the hell am I doing on the floor? Why aren't I in bed?_

I look up and see I'm between a light blue threadbare couch, worn to the fabric and marred with cigarette burns and beer stains, and a chipped coffee table that looks as though a cat attacked it at one point. Below me is a plain dark oak floor. None of these things are mine.

The drumming in my head intensifies as I push myself in a sitting position. Another cold drop hits my already freezing skin. Slowly, I peer up over the back of the couch. I let out a terrified scream at the sight of the blood before me. My hands clamp down on my mouth to stifle the rising vomit. Closing my eyes, I count to three and try to catch my breath.

 _I'm just dreaming. That's it. I'm having a bad hangover nightmare and if I just pinch myself, I'll wake up and see everything is back to normal._

I suck in a breath and pinch my lip. The pain shocks me into awareness. Blearily, I open my eyes and this time, can't stop myself from emptying my stomach on the shredded corpse on the couch. Rejected liquor and stomach bile mix with the blood and gore, adding a hellish touch to an already gruesome scene. The sight makes my stomach cramp and I retch harder, spewing unendingly all over what's left of him.

Finally, the storm in my stomach quietens. I weakly expel one last dry heave before collapsing in a spent heap beside the couch. I'm so dizzy and my body won't stop shaking. I think I'm going into shock.

I need to call someone. The police. Campus security. The fucking president. I don't know, but someone needs to come out here. Someone needs to know what happened here.

But what _did_ happen here?

I don't want to, but my curiosity won't die until I look again. Holding my breath, I use the couch for support as I climb shakily to my feet. My stomach roils when I look down at the corpse, but I somehow manage to hold my shit together. Breathing through gritted teeth, I let my gaze roll over his naked body, taking in the dried blood and the multiple stab wounds. He has deep puncture marks all over his chest and stomach. Whoever did this to him must've used something incredibly big and sharp, like a fucking machete, because this poor son of a bitch looks like Jason Voorhees got to him.

 _Voorhees._

A shudder races through me as my head echoes with the name. No matter how many times it happens, I know I'll never get used to associating myself with him.

It's not easy when you share the same name as a notorious monster.

Even worse when you live in the same state, hours away from where he wreaked havoc at Camp Crystal Lake for nearly three decades. Some say he's immortal. Others say Jason lives on by his ability to infect others with his essence, like some kind of parasitic serial killer virus. Or possession, as the Catholics call it, but I'd rather not think of those sadistic fucks. Jason Voorhees may be a monster, but at least he never touched little kids.

I've had people ask me before whether I'm related to him. Truthfully, I don't know, but I tell people I'm not. Voorhees isn't that uncommon of a name, but even I can't deny it's pretty coincidental that I not only share it with him, but even my first name sounds eerily similar to his.

 _Jessa Voorhees._

Jesus just repeating it to myself gives me the chills.

But I'm no killer; hell, I don't have the same motivations to be one as Jason did. I don't get bullied. I don't have some weird mommy or daddy issues. But I am afraid of water…

 _Stop it, Jessa. Being afraid of water doesn't make you a reincarnation of that hockey mask-wearing fuck. Hell, you don't even like hockey and you just puked at the sight of blood. Now how are you Jason Voorhees again?_

Shaking my head, my gaze catches a glint of something silver. Sinking on all fours, I peer down beneath the coffee table. At first, I don't see anything except for more blood and torn tissue. But then, beneath the macabre shroud, my vision focuses on the unmistakable hilt of a two-foot long blade.

 _Jesus, fuck!_ I shoot to my feet and race for the door. _What the fuck is a machete doing here?! And - fuck!_ I scream at the figure racing beside me. Heart racing, I turn back and see it's only a mirror. Something compels me to walk toward it. I don't know, maybe to check my own reflection to see whether I've been hurt. Somewhere deep in my heart, I already know the answer, but my mind is stubborn on finding the truth for itself.

I step up to the mirror and gasp. _Holy cow shit!_ I hastily wrap my arms around myself to cover my nakedness, but there's no hiding the blood splatter trailing down my neck, across my breasts, and leading down to the juncture between my thighs. Dried rings circle around my forearms while my palms appear as I tried finger-painting with it. Jesus fucking Christ. How did I not see this before? I look like a fucking psycho version of a Barbie Doll!  
Fuck, I can't tell the cops about this. They'll think I fucking did it! Shit, I don't even know if I did it, but what else am I supposed to think? I'm here aren't I? I woke up next to a fucking body hacked to bits with a machete nearby and now I look like I went Benihana on someone's ass. Of course the cops will think I did it! I'm probably the only one here!

 _Am I, though?_

Forgetting my blood-stained nakedness, I look in the kitchen and downstairs bathroom for a sign of someone. Nothing. Everything in both rooms looks untouched by violence as well as some serious cleaning. Definitely in a guy's apartment, but even in such ragged shape, I doubt only one could afford to stay here on a college kid's salary. I head upstairs to check the other bedrooms. Hopefully everyone is still asleep and too hungover to know I had any part in what happened here.

I get to the landing of the second floor. The door to the bedroom across from me is standing wide open. A large picture window with the curtains drawn back reveals a crystal blue lake reflecting golden rays of bright morning sunlight. Several groups of people already have taken residence along the stone-dotted beach. Great. More fucking witnesses to avoid. Could this day get any goddamn worse?

I slowly tiptoe my way across the hall and into the bedroom. It's shared by two guys, both clearly into displaying posters of half-naked chicks, while one is into classic rock and the other decorated his side of the room with memorabilia of his favorite sports teams. Both beds are empty - not a good sign. And just looking at the halves of the room gives me no clue as to which guy I might have chopped to bits.

Well, my guess is the guy who likes the Dallas Cowboys, because anyone who knows me is well-aware of the fact that my blood runs green. Literally nothing turns me off more than the thought of sleeping with someone who wears that pussy blue star like it's some kind of badge of honor.

Only more motivation to have killed the guy.

But I decide to look around the room for a sign of my clothes. I definitely came in this place with them, so I must've taken them off somewhere. I go over to the rock fan's side first and just as I suspected, they're not there. That only means…

Goddamnit. I _did_ sleep with a Dallas fan.

Or did I?

To confirm my doubts, I throw back the navy blue comforter and groan at the sight of my pink butterfly thong and pleated mini skirt tangled amongst the blue-striped sheets. Son of a _BITCH!_

Well, that does it. There goes my fucking hopes of not leaving my mark on this place. I know how this will go down if I call the cops: They'll bring in their CSI guys to collect blood samples, hair fibers, and they're damn sure gonna test for fingerprints all over the fucking place. And if they take in the glass with the tell-tale lip gloss smudge left behind, they're gonna bag that shit right up and find out it was me who drank from it after they run their tests. Hell, they'll probably find my hair and possibly girl-juices here, too. There's no way out of this. I'm fucked.

I don't know if it's the weight of my situation or the hard possibility that I actually did this, but either way I collapse in a wilted heap on the floor. My head bounces off the carpet and my eyes drift shut. Within seconds, everything goes from nightmare to black.


	3. Chapter 2

I wake to the scent of sulfur. It strikes me right in the nose, making my eyes water as I rub them open. I get up and the first thing I notice is I'm dressed in a white flouncy blouse with half sleeves and a pair of ill-fitting high-waisted blue jeans. On my feet are a hideous pair of white Keds, and a quick swipe of my hair tells me it's shortened, curly, and dyed a mousy brown with a single gray lock obscuring my left eye.

My fingers tremble as I pull the strand away from my face, studying it with narrowed eyes. What in the fuck is going on? Why do I suddenly look like some eighties nightmare? And what the hell is with that smell?

A loud bang jolts me around. I gasp when I see the cement floors and metal racks lining the high walls. Flames shoot up from nowhere, illuminating the warehouse in a hellish blaze that I feel deep in the marrow of my bones. The little hairs on the back of my neck rise as a bleat of maniacal laughter fills the air.

"Ahah!" he cackles in my ear. I whirl around and scream at his seared flesh and sadistic grin. "Well, well, well," he lilts, circling around me. Fear blooms in my chest when I see the razor-like claws attached to his brown glove. He taps the one on his pointer finger against his chin as he surveys my trembling figure. "Lookie what I have here. A lost little girl found her way into my lair. How sweet."

"Dude, what the fuck is going on?" I blurt, ignoring his unsettling taunts. "What am I doing here? And who the hell are you supposed to be? You look like Freddy fucking Krueger."

"Fry," he corrects, pointing a claw at me. "The name's Fry Krueger and you, little one, I already know who you are."  
"Great," I huff, crossing my arms at his haughtiness. "I wake up in some creepy ass warehouse with a cosplaying freak who's apparently got a hard-on for me. Whatever did I do to get so lucky?"

Freddy - er, Fry, whatever he calls himself - throws back his head and laughs. Next thing I know, he vanishes out of thin air.

"Whoa!" I spin around, searching the air for him. "Where the hell did you go? Hey! Asshole! You best not have left me here! I'm no mood for this-"

A wet, sucking sound shoots up from the floor. I jump back on reflex and slip on a pool of liquid. My feet fly out from under me and I fall back on my elbows. Pain flares up my arms, but I don't have a chance to recover when red, spider web vines shoot out from the floor and coil around my limbs. I scream and thrash against my confines, but the harder I fight, the more those things rise from the floor, wrapping around my body like straps on a straightjacket.

"What the fuck?!" I bellow as my bindings tighten threateningly into my skin. "What is this shit? What's happening to me?"

In answer, three little girls appear out of thin air, all blonde, young, and wearing identical white christening dresses with matching bows and frilly socks on their patent white Mary Janes.

"We can help get you out," they all say in unison.

"Am I on acid?"  
As one, the girls tilt their heads to the side and ask, "What's acid?"

"Never mind." I shake my head. "You guys are too young to know that stuff. Anyway, you said you could get me out?"

"We could," they say, nodding. "But first you must do something for us."  
"Uh, can't you girls see I got my hands tied at the moment? Trust me, I'd help you if I could, but I-"

"You can still listen," they interrupt, taking simultaneous steps toward me. "That's all we need from you. We just need you to listen."

"To what?"  
They roll their eyes, glaring impatiently. But then their faces change from irritated to dreamy. Before I know what to do, they break out in song:

 _One, two, Freddy's coming for you_

 _Three, four, better lock your door_

 _Five, six, grab a crucifix_

 _Seven, eight, better stay up late_

 _Nine, ten, never sleep again._

"I know the song," I whisper, fear stealing the strength of my breath. "Are you guys… Are you the ones who always sing it in the movies?"  
"We are Freddy's favorites," they say. "And now we are Fry's favorites. We do for him what we did for Freddy. But he said he'd let us go if we talked to you first."

"Me?" I widen my eyes. "Why? I mean, what do I have to do with Freddy Krueger?"  
"It's not Freddy you're part of. It's the other."

"Who? Oh wait," I groan, hitting my head against the floor. "Don't tell me you're talking about the other one?"

"You are Jason's descendant. The last of his family still alive. When Jason went off to Camp Crystal Lake, his mommy didn't tell him he was gonna have a sister. She was born the same year Jason died. She's the reason why Jason was always allowed to come back from the dead. Why nobody can hurt him, not even Freddy, or Fry. As long as their blood flows in someone's veins, they can always come back to life.

"But now, things are changed. People are no longer afraid of them. Freddy and Jason are celebrities. They have movies. Their stories no longer frighten. The Dark Ones have taken both Freddy and Jason back to their world and have threatened to keep them there if they do not find someone to take their place.

"Fry has already taken Freddy's place. Now, it is your turn to take Jason's. You've already completed the first test The Dark Ones gave you, but now you must finish the rest. They came to you last night while you were sleeping. They made you get up in the middle of the night and go to a party. You went and got hurt by a bad boy. No one helped except The Dark Ones. They gave you Jason's power to get your revenge. You did a good job, and The Dark Ones are happy with you. But now you must make them happier by becoming the next Camp Crystal Lake Killer. You must continue the cycle with Fry.

"Together, you will make the world afraid of you again. You will go to Camp Crystal Lake and Fry will rule over Elm Street. Once you are done bringing fear back into their lives, you must go to Haddonfield to seek out the one The Dark Ones need the most. There is no other choice for you, Jessa Voorhees. You were born to take Jason's place and help Fry find Mikaela Myers. The Dark Ones have made it so, and so it must be. You have been informed. Now it's time to take your place."


	4. Chapter 3

A rush of water fills my mouth as I let out a defiant scream. Choking, I flail my arms to find my way up. Sunlight trickles faintly through the shadowy depths. I try to ignore the burning in my lungs as I swim for the surface, but no matter how hard I fight, the water keeps pulling me back down.

 _No!_ Bubbles stream from my lips, choking what's left of my air right out of me. Weak and helpless, I let my body go limp as the current pulls me under. I look up at the sun for one final goodbye just before the black waves swallow me whole.

Down, down, down, I go deeper into the watery rabbit hole. Finally I sink to the bottom and the world fades out of focus. With a flash, I come back to awareness and find myself face to mask with the notorious Camp Crystal Lake Killer.

I scream and try to move away from him, but he grabs my wrist and shoves me on my back. He wraps his hand around my throat, choking the life out of me as he rips off his mask. I know what he wants to do. I turn away, hoping to deter him, but he simply wrenches my head back. With a sardonic smile forming on his decayed face, he shoves the iconic goalie mask in place and disappears.

I come to back in the bedroom, sputtering a mouthful of lake water onto their beige carpet. My body is heavy, sore, desperate for dreamless sleep. There doesn't seem to be enough air in the room to soothe my ragged lungs or steady my spinning head. Collapsing on the floor, I roll on my back and give myself over to the exhaustion. If this is how I'm supposed to die, then so be it. I'm too damn tired to fight.

But it seems life has other ideas for me.

No sooner do I accept defeat, a surge of energy rushes into my veins. My eyes snap open at the rush of power blazing all throughout my body. Within seconds, the spinning in my head is clear and I feel as if I've grown ten times stronger. I test out my arms with light flexing of my fingers and hands. Adrenaline unlike anything I've ever felt before courses through me. Jesus Christ, I've never felt so alive.

I get to my feet and see I'm fully clothed. I'm wearing a black button-up shirt, baggy cargo pants over combat boots, and a heavy water-stained jacket cut and frayed in almost every place. Beside my feet are my beloved mask and machete, brand new and ready to be put to use.

 _Time for my welcome home party._

I take the mask first. It slips over my head with ease. The eye holes are big enough to look through without obstructing my vision. Breathing isn't as easy, but I find I don't need to breathe anymore. My heart doesn't even seem to be beating. Ironic, given that I've never felt more alive.

Bending down, I run a finger lovingly over the blade of my loyal weapon. The sharp edge cuts straight through skin, but I don't feel any pain. Blood squirts out, but in an instant the torn skin on my finger stitches itself back together, leaving just a faint scar as a reminder. Smirking, I grab the hilt and slowly get to my feet. I catch my image in the mirror above the dresser and my smile grows wider.

Goddamn, I've never looked better. Though I can't see much beneath the mask and layers, my hair is shiny and flawless, a perfect sheen of blonde falling in graceful waves below my shoulders, and I can feel my body has become completely overtaken by lean, hard muscle. I feel like the killing machine I was born to be.

I _am_ Jessa Voorhees.

A startled scream from the doorway interrupts my thoughts. A brunette, about my age, stands in nothing but a guy's shirt and panties, and won't stop screaming in my face. "Oh my fucking god! Help! Somebody help me!"

 _There's no one here to help you, bitch._

In a quick swipe, I raise my machete and slice at her head. It flies off, spraying blood everywhere as it sails down the stairs. The rest of her crumbles to a pathetic heap, leaking her precious fluids all over the carpet. I smile at her beneath my mask and step around her, ready for my next victim.

I find him easily by his astonished yell. Typical frat type with surfer-boy blonde hair and wearing a douchey pink polo with tan shorts. He looks up from his girlfriend's head just as I emerge on the bottom landing. "Oh sh-"

I rear back and shove my machete into his mouth, shutting him up for good.

He gurgles once around the blade before his eyes roll back. I wait for him to go limp and then rip my machete out, making a wet sucking sound as it releases from his mouth. I know there's someone else here. Just one last insignificant fuck to deal with, and then I can make my way on home.

My senses drive me toward the bathroom. I don't bother hiding my heavy footfalls as I march over to it. The door is locked. I laugh at his stupid attempt to keep me out. Tightening my grip, I twist hard and the knob snaps. A pair of terrified whimpers sound on the other side. I kick the door open, sending a spray of splinters raining down on their terrified faces.

"Please," the guy says, pulling the blonde's head down to cover what his dropped pants can't. He's on the toilet, an obvious odor coming from it, but what I don't understand is why his dick is so damn hard. One look at the girl's lips tells me all I need to know.

Fucking perverts.

 _They need to die._

Filled with rage, I snatch the blonde by her head. She cries pathetically as she struggles in my grip. The guy launches himself to pull her away and I cut off his hands.

"The fuck!" he collapses at his severed stumps, blood gushing from the veins. I leave him there to bleed out and turn my attention back to the blonde, who's too in shock over the state of her boyfriend to see my blade in time. She turns just as I bring it down over her head, cleaving her skull in half. She drops like the broken doll she is beside her boyfriend, who I know is still alive by the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

I fix that with a stab to the heart. Blood erupts in my face, painting me a lovely shade of insides. Satisfied, I rip my machete out of him and exit the house.

The sun is hot. Air too warm. I need to get to the water. Need to get home. Nothing about this place feels right. But at least there's water. As long as there's water, I can always find my way back home.

My ears fill with the sound of terrified screams. Music to my ears. I can feel people running from me in terror and snapping pictures of me on their phones. Half of me yearns to kill them, but a little voice in the back of my head tells me no.

 _Not yet, Jessa._ It's a woman's voice. Light, yet raspy. I've never heard it before, but I know it somehow. _They have to know you've returned first. Forget about them and go home._

 _But they need to die._

 _They will, Jessa. They will. But first you must return home. They'll come looking for you there._

 _Do you promise?_

 _Of course I do, my sweet girl. Grandma would never lie to you._

 _Okay, Grandma._ I turn back to the water. _If you promise, then I'll go home._

 _That's my girl. Always do as Grandma tells you. I'll never do you wrong._

Her words bring about a sense of peace. Safety. Home. Things I thought I knew before but had no fucking idea about until now. I know so long as I remain close to her, I'll always feel as though I belong. That I'm being the good girl she wants me to be.

Now it's not so hard to block out the screams. With the smell of the lake water filling my senses, I close my eyes and walk into the waves with open arms. I barely take more than three steps in when the water rises around me in tidal waves. Screams fill the air, but I pay them no mind as the water engulfs me in its liquid embrace. Within seconds I'm engulfed in its liquid embrace, but I have no fear. I know it's just taking me home.


	5. Chapter 4

A tingle of warmth flows up my boots as they touch familiar soil. The beast inside me calms at its long awaited return home. Sighing happily, I push the mask off my face as I survey my new residence.

It's a lot shabbier than I expected. The grass is completely overrun. Some of the cabins look like the roofs have caved in and some of the windows have been blown out. They're all in bad need of paint jobs and one glance inside each of them tells me they all need new bedding and furniture too. And probably food. I doubt this place has seen a fresh meal since it killed Uncle Jason.

 _Uncle Jason._

Now that I've come back to myself - at least, whatever piece of myself has remained in tact - everything that's happened is pretty disturbing to take in.

For fuck's sake, I am related to Jason Voorhees. More than that, but I've become him. Exactly like the possession shit the legend talks about. And even more interesting is that I'm not the only one who's taken up a notorious killer's hat - no pun intended.

Fry Krueger.

The new Freddy, like I'm the new Jason. So that means if the movies are right about his powers, he has the ability to get inside my dreams. It's obvious he did that to begin with. That bit with the girls makes goosebumps break out along my spine when I recall it. But why him? Why was he the first to know? And why did he get me?

There's something else too. Something the girls said that's bothering me. I don't remember it all, but I distinctly recall them saying something about Haddonfield. As in, the Halloween movies?

 _Oh great._ I throw my hands in the air. Fucking great. Now I have to deal with a new Michael Myers too? Who the fuck is next? Chucky? Pinhead? Fuck, why not bring out Count Dracula and Frankenstein too? Like shit what crazy bitch is making the rules here?

Okay, so I've always known it's true that Jason existed. I mean, we have the records in town hall to prove it. Anyone who's anyone - even me has gone in there to read about what Jason Voorhees did at Camp Crystal Lake. The fact that they somehow allowed a movie to be made about it boggles my mind - worse that they got it right.

I've seen it in my head. All of Jason's memories and thoughts, from the time he was human and during his reign as one of the world's most heinous monsters. Whoever directed those films had a direct insight to Jason's life. He knew his every thought, his every deed.

Will they make a movie about me next?

I wonder about that as I drift around the camp, trying to take it in with new eyes even though my memory has seen it thousands of times before. But I just can't believe this is all happening. It's fucking nuts! No way it's real.

Deep down though, I know it is.

After taking a walk around the archery course and docks, I pick my way through the cabins to the one in least disrepair. Turns out to be a counselor's lodge, built for four with flannel couches around a stone fireplace, and cabinets filled of canned items that are way past their expiration date. Now that I'm no longer my alter-ego, I find I'm bound again by the burdens of humanity. I need food. Air. A fat toke and a good fuck too while I'm at it.

"Damn it," I sigh as I sink into the musty couch cushions. "Maybe this whole serial killer thing isn't all it's cracked up to be."

What the fuck's the fun in it when I'm still human?

Letting out another irritated sigh, I decide to make myself comfortable on the couch. As I close my eyes, it hits me that I might see Fry again. Well, good. Maybe he can explain more about what's going on.

And maybe a part of me is looking forward to seeing someone who will completely understand the new position I'm in. If I'm being honest, what I really want is to know I have a friend.


	6. Chapter 5

Fry doesn't disappoint. He's the first thing I see when I open my eyes. His sulphur scent hits me next, making my eyes water as I take in our surroundings. He's decided to keep us here in the cabin, thankfully away from his dank warehouse and creepy little girl friends.

"Hi," he says, removing his bowler hat. Instantly, he reverts back to his human facade. I get an idea and peek down at myself, letting out a surprised laugh at my attire.

"Back to being Nancy again?"  
"For now," he smirks, making my belly swim. "But this time I decided to let you keep your hair. You're a cute blonde."

I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my smile. "Thanks. And you're not so bad yourself when you take off that hat."

"Yeah," he chuckles, flicking the brim. "It's part of the curse. Well, that and other things but I'd rather not get into that right now. I know you wanted to talk to me."

"I do," I nod, getting in a crossed-leg position. He lowers himself on the couch next to me and copies my stance. I can't help but laugh at the sight we must make. "So are you really the new Freddy?"

He nods. "Yup. And you're the new Jason."

"But why am I still human then? If I were really Jason, wouldn't I be supernatural like him?"

He arches a dark brow. "You don't call all this," he waves a hand between us and at our surroundings, "supernatural? I hate to break it to you, toots, but this is as Outer Limits as it gets. But to answer your question, you're not human. You just weaken as if you were when you take off the mask. It's the same for me whenever I take off Freddy's hat or glove. Like right now, you could kill me if you wanted to."

"Seriously?" I widen my eyes at the thought. "But you're still wearing the glove. Wouldn't that like, protect you like armor or something?"  
He shakes his head. "Not completely. We both need the full get-up to get all the perks. I know," he says at my irritated eye roll. "It's a fucking drag, toots. But there's always a price to pay when you inherit new power, you know?"

"I guess," I say, but I don't agree. Call me spoiled, but I want everything all the time.

"Look at it this way," he says, chucking me lightly on the chin. "If you were wearing Jason's mask right now, I wouldn't be able to get in your head."

Now that gets my interest. "Really? So even against someone like you, I can protect myself?"  
"As long as you always have Jason's mask and machete, yes. Just like I'll always need the hat and glove."

"But I can kill you right now, even though I'm not all geared up?"

A wistful glaze crosses over him as he smiles. "You could try. I'm not saying it isn't possible. I mean, look how Nancy always bested Freddy. But not everybody could fight him like she could and I'm not interested in figuring out whether you're one of them."

"Does that mean-?"

He takes my hand with his uncovered one and slowly runs a claw down my arm, not cutting skin, but enough to send a delicious rush of shivers flowing up my spine. "No, Jessa. I don't wanna hurt you. I could, there's no rules against it, but I see no point when it'd be a lot more fun to work together."

"Work together?" My brows knit at his response. "What do you mean? Like, you wanna go on joint killing sprees or something?"  
"Mmm," he licks his lips as if picturing it. "As hot as that sounds, I was thinking more about the fact that we have to find Mikaela Myers."

"Who -? Ohhhh," I exclaim as a lightbulb goes off. "I remember. The chick your little girlfriends told me about."

He winces at the g-word. "Yeah. Cassandra, Chloe, and Christina. They're kind of like my little helpers. They were Freddy's victims and I guess you can say I inherited them."

"So the woman I heard in my head earlier was Jason's mom," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

"What?" he gives me an intense look. "You heard Mama Voorhees already?"  
"Is that what she likes to be called? She had me call her Grandma. Damn it, now I feel jipped. Mama Voorhees is way more badass."

"She really talked to you, Jessa? Already?"  
I nod at his surprise. "Yeah, why? Isn't that what's supposed to happen now that I've become Jason?"

"Yeah, but I thought… never mind. It's not important right now. Let's get back to your questions."

"Honestly? I can't think of any right now." I smile sheepishly. "I had so many when I fell asleep, but now that you're here they kinda all faded away."

"Yeah, I have that effect on women."

I laugh at his pompousness. "Are you always this cocky?"  
In answer, he waves a hand and our surroundings blur. Before my eyes, the scenery changes to one of a mountain top looking down at a valley below. Ahead of us lays a horizon of bleeding pinks and oranges, all blending together to form one beautiful vermillion halo around a dying sun. I gasp in delight at the picture perfect view.

"Wow, Fry. This is amazing."

He wiggles his claws. "Power of dreams, baby. I can do anything I want here."

"Can you teach me?"  
"Maybe," he smiles, shrugging. "I'm not sure. But if you want me to change something, I'll do it."

I shake my head. "No, this is perfect. Just the kind of place I've always wanted to be. I wish," I whisper, gazing out into the ethereal horizon. _I wish I could stay here forever._

Fry reaches out and carefully takes my hand in his glove. "It's not so bad, Jessa. Trust me, I thought it was gonna suck but I gotta be honest, I love what I can do as Freddy."

"No, it's not that," I shake my head. "Believe it or not, but this whole Jason thing is kinda cool. I mean, I totally killed four people today like it was nothing and you wanna know something?" I lean in, pressing my lips close to his ear. "I don't feel an ounce of guilt over it."

His mouth pulls to the side. "You shouldn't. Killing is fun. Why do you think those fuckers in Washington decided to create The Purge?"  
"Do you go out on Purge Night?"

"Nah," he laughs. "I like to sit back and watch. Besides, the fun starts for me when all those sick fucks think they're back home, all safe in bed and shit. That's when I come in and show them how I get out my demons."

"Man, I can't wait for that," I sigh wistfully. "Hope you don't mind, but I'm so joining you for this year's celebration."

"I'd love that, Jessa," he murmurs, stroking his claw down my arm. "But there's still something on your mind. You gonna tell me or do I have to get it out of you?"  
"You can read my mind too?"  
"Of course," he scoffs as if it were obvious. "That's the whole crux of Freddy's powers. He can read people's minds, find out what scares them or ways he can use to draw them in. If I wanted, I could break through your mental walls right now and find out what you're thinking about, but that wouldn't be very friendly of me."

"It wouldn't," I shake my head, then sigh at his probing stare. "Okay, fine. Since you're so damn stubborn, I'll tell you. I was just thinking that it'd be nice to not be so alone all the time. Can you see me in real life, or only in my dreams?"  
"Hmm," he taps his chin with his claw. "I'm not sure. I'll have to ask the girls that. They know more about the rules than I do."

"Well, how else are we supposed to get this Mikaela chick then? If you can't come to Crystal Lake just to hang out with me then how the hell are we supposed to Lord of the Rings our asses on the way to Haddonfield?"

"Good question. Again, I'll ask the girls. They talk to The Dark Ones. Don't ask me how 'cause I have no fucking clue yet. I've only been doing this for a few months."  
"I know you don't wanna talk about it yet," I say in a slow, careful voice as I unearth some rocks from the soil. "But one day, will you tell me about how you became Freddy? About your part of the curse?"  
Fry takes my hand in his glove and pulls me close, brushing his lips softly against my cheek. "One day, Jessa. One day. But for now, I should let you get some sleep. You've been through a lot today."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I reply with a snarky eye roll. "One second I'm just a normal college girl with a freaky name, and then the next I actually become the freak who almost has the same name. And you know what?" I pout. "My costume totally sucks."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm sure you could do something to change that. As long as you don't mess with the mask or machete, I don't think The Dark Ones will care about the rest."  
I perk right up at that. "Good to know," I beam, then soften my gaze. "And seriously, Fry?" I take his glove and cup it against my cheek. His eyes widen, but he doesn't pull away. "Thank you. For everything."

"But I didn't do anything, Jessa," he rushes out in a husky whisper.

"Yes you did," I assure him, running my fingers down his jaw. "You're being my friend. You're helping me adjust to all of this."

He tries not to look embarrassed by my affection and fails miserably. "Aw. Shucks, toots. Don't mention it. I'm just doing what I know you'd do for me."

My lips crack in a smirk. "Don't be so sure about that. I'll have you know, Fry Krueger, that I'm an incredibly selfish bitch. I don't even like to share my food, what makes you think I'd help you?"  
He taps his claw against my temple. "I just know, toots. I just know."

I shake my head but give in. He can win this win, but tomorrow, I'll show him.

Is it stupid that I'm excited over the thought of seeing him again?

Whether he can hear my thoughts or not, it doesn't change that he's reverting the dream scene back to the cabin. I try not to look disappointed as I take in the rustic furniture, wishing it were the mountain top instead.

"Don't look so sad, Jessa," Fry says as his claw tucks my hair behind my ear. "I'll come back for you."'

I smile hopefully. "Tomorrow?"  
"The moment you close your eyes," he assures, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, his lips linger close to mine. If I just turn my head an inch…

He must be reading my thoughts because he quickly pulls away. As he does, the cabin begins to fade and I know it must mean our time together is ending. Not wanting him to catch onto my sadness, I stretch over the couch cushions and close my eyes.

"And Jessa?" Fry murmurs, making my eyes fly open as his claw brushes my hair from my ear. "Know that you're never alone. Whenever you need me, I'll be here. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a candle snuffed by the wind, his presence fades away into the aether, leaving me aching and longing for his return. Yet at the same time, I'm so damn happy.

 _I made a friend._


	7. Chapter 6

The next morning, the first thing I do when I wake up is put on my mask. The second the cool plastic touches my face, I feel that renewed burst of energy like when I woke up after that dream. But along with it comes the feeling of having my very essence taken away.

I decide to leave the mask on, but flip it to the side so it's hanging on my head like a second face. Creepy, but at least I still feel like me while sharing this inexplicable connection with Jason.

This is gonna be one helluva thing to get used to.

It's nuts, isn't it? Only yesterday, I was just a girl who woke up in a strange house with no memory of how she got there or what the hell happened to her. Since then, I've discovered things about myself I never thought could be possible.

Nothing seems more impossible than sharing my body with my uncle, who just so happens to be the notorious Jason Voorhees. Oh, and I met the reincarnation of Freddy Krueger who I may or may not be attracted to, and let's not forget the two of us are sent on a mission by "The Dark Ones" to find the new Michael Myers.

Like I said, some crazy bitch with an intense case of boredom is clearly pulling the strings here. For now, I'm done asking questions and just gonna enjoy the ride.

First thing's first, like I told Fry, I really need to do something about my outfit. My lip curls in disdain as I take in the baggy clothes and drab colors. What I need, my dears, is a fucking makeover.

Grabbing my machete, I raise it to my shirt and start hacking away. Time to put this damn thing to real work.

As I chop, I discover there's another black shirt beneath the button-up. It's just a regular tee, but perfectly form-fitting. I take off the button-up and make the under shirt into a crop top. I turn the baggy pants into daisy dukes that hug my trim waist and firm thighs nicely. The boots are good the way they are so I leave them alone, but I mess with the jacket to make it look more like a cropped bomber. When I'm done, I head to the ensuite bathrooms to check my reflection.

Oh, much better. I turn to the side and bend over, checking how my bubble butt looks in the shorts. Not to sound all conceited, but I always thought I was pretty hot. Very Barbie. I have the blonde hair, big blue eyes, perky lips, big tits, small waist, and shapely legs that don't look strong enough to hold up my voluptuous ass. But now that I have the mask, machete, and an outfit Jill Valentine would die for, I went from hot blonde to explosive bombshell.

Eat your hearts out, boys of Camp Crystal Lake.

Happy with my new look, I head out to the woods to look for something to eat. I find a bird's nest way up high in a tree. Doesn't look like Mama Bird's home. With a flick of my wrist, I throw the machete at the nest like a ninja star. It knocks the nest down to the forest floor, releasing half a dozen eggs in its wake. One egg breaks, but the others remain intact. Satisfied, I scoop up my machete and take my breakfast back to the cabin to cook.

After the unsatisfying meal, I head back out for more exploring. I've checked out most of the camp, so I move onto the gravel road that meets up with the main highway. I get maybe ten yards from camp when I hear the roar of a motor.

 _They've come for you, Jessa._

 _Grandma?_

 _Yes, baby. I told you I'm here just like I told you they'd come looking for you. Wasn't I right, Jessa?_

Nodding to myself, I slide the mask over my face and behind the treeline to see who's coming to my home. A few seconds later, a brand new Jeep whizzes by, carting four babes in bikinis and two shirtless guys. Behind them comes an older Ford 250, beat-up and stained with mud around the tires. As it passes, I see the bed is loaded with camping supplies.

Just what the fuck do these douchebags think they're doing?

My boots are silent amongst the leaves as I stalk my way toward them. Watching from the gaps in the trees, I see the occupants of the Jeep are out and looking around. A girl hops out from the Ford as the driver parks next to the Jeep. I watch the tiny redhead pull down the truck bed and unload the supplies.

No one helps her.

The other girls are too busy heading down for the water. The driver, another guy, joins his buddies as they pull out some blunts and a get right down to sippin and tokin while the redhead diligently starts putting the tent together. I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at the water that she's waiting for one of the girls to either help her or ask her to join.

Man, it's gonna suck killing her.

But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. For now, I'll watch and wait for the right time to strike.

"Hey, Holly!" one of the swimsuit models calls out to the redhead. "Stop messing with that shit! Come in the water!"

Holly's flame-colored curls bounce as she shakes her head. "I don't swim."

"Aw, come on, Hollywood," a muscular guy with dusky skin croons, drawing her close with an arm around her shoulder. It's not the guy she rode with, but she settles into his side all the same. "What if I shared my raft with you?"  
"You would bring a raft, Miguel," Holly sneers, the affection never leaving her face.

Miguel laughs and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. The guy she was with catches it and comes storming over.

"Hey man," he taps Miguel's shoulder. "Whatcha sayin to my girl? Tryna hit on her or what?"

"Nah, man," Miguel shakes his head, but keeps his arm around Holly. "I'm just tryna convince her to come in with us."

"She doesn't swim," her boyfriend growls. He grabs hold of Holly's hand and tugs her out of Miguel's grip. She falls into his arms, looking uneasy, but her boyfriend is too busy shooting daggers at Miguel to notice. "If anybody's gonna get my girl in the water, it's gonna be me. Comprende, amigo?"

Miguel's jaw locks at the gringo's poor attempt to speak his culture's language. His fists clench and unclench at his sides before he takes a deep breath, nods, and stalks away.

Holly waits for him to get out of earshot before rounding on her boyfriend. "Why did you do that, Ty? He was just being nice!"

"Yeah, 'cause he wants to get in your pants," Ty sneers as if she's stupid for not realizing that. "I see the way he looks at you Holly so don't try to deny it."

"You're being ridiculous, Ty. Miguel and I are just friends. We're in the same major and share a lot of the same classes. He's just my friend, Ty. Really, that's all."

"Whatever," Ty scoffs, pushing away from her. "Then if you two are only friends, that means I won't see him sniffing around you when I come back from taking a piss, right?"

Holly starts to stay something before thinking better of it and closes her mouth. Shaking her head, she mutters something about jealousy being unattractive as she goes back to setting up their tent.

Ty watches her for a moment, irritated by her lack of response. But her silence says everything. Casting her one last dark look, he stalks off towards the trees in anger. He's coming straight for me.

I wait for him to get deep enough in the woods before beginning my approach. His anger and jealousy hits me like an intoxicating mix of cologne and body wash. I wonder what Fry would smell like in real life…

 _Not now, Jessa!_ Grandma hisses in my ear. _This is no time to think about boys! You have a job to do!_

 _Right,_ I bite the inside of my cheek sheepishly to prevent a smile. _Sorry, Grandma._

 _Don't be sorry just get it done!_

Jesus this lady is pushy.

No fucking wonder Uncle Jason had mommy issues.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to Ty. He pulls out a black round tin from his back pocket as his other hand works with his belt. As his dick springs free, he pops a wad of chew in his mouth. The sound of his jaw smacking only slightly overtakes the one of him urinating all over my precious ferns like a mutt marking his territory.

If that's not enough to piss me off, the sight of the Confederate flag patch sewn into the back pocket of his ripped, dirt-stained Levi's has my blood boiling.

Fucking redneck son of a bitch. Look at you with your stupid cowboy hat and boots, and that ugly ass longhorn belt buckle. Why, I oughta-

"Hey you," a sugary voice lilts from behind him. It's the same girl who asked Holly to go swimming earlier. Out of her friends, I'm betting she's the ringleader. She's kinda plain looking, just a curly haired brunette with brown eyes - but it's that rack I bet has her lording over the other chicks. She doesn't see me. Her eyes are for Ty only. Suits me just fine. I much prefer the element of surprise.

Ty glances over his shoulder and smirks. "Hey Mandy. Whatcha doin back here? Come to see if I needed a hand?"  
"Something like that," she purrs, coming up behind him to run her red painted nails over his slim chest. He tenses when she wraps a hand around his dick, but he doesn't move away. "Why aren't you with your little girlfriend?"  
"Ain't your business," Ty grunts between thrusts of her hand. "And you should really stop doing that, Mandy."

"Do you really want me to stop, Ty?" she whispers in his ear as she increases her pumping. Ty arches into her movements, eyes closed and breathing heavier. Mandy smiles at her obvious power over him.

Well, isn't this girl a little homewrecking bitch. I think it's time to teach her a lesson, but… No offense Uncle Jason, your way is cool and all but this ain't 1980 anymore.

Shifting my mask to the side, I refix my grip on the hilt of my machete and stroll on over to them. Swinging my weapon over my shoulder - I should really name the damn thing - I whistle a jaunty little tune and swing my hips right along. Whether it's my song or my careless movements, Mandy is the first to notice me.

"Ew, where the hell did you come from?" she barks, startling Ty out of his lust stupor.

His eyes widen at my appearance. "Holy shit. What the fuck are you supposed to be, honey? This ain't Halloween."

"You're on my land, shithead," I snarl, ignoring his jab. Twirling my machete, I let it hang threateningly at my side. They both take a step back when they see the blood coating the blade.

"Fuck," Ty grumbles as Mandy lets out a frightened whimper. "What the fuck are you doin with that thing you psycho ass bitch? You think you're Jason Voorhees or somethin?"  
I throw back my head and let out a cold hair-raising laugh that stirs the wind around us, blowing an icy breeze in their direction. Mandy screams and Ty pulls her behind him. I smirk at his attempt to look macho with his dick hanging limp.

"You stupid asshole," I say in a low, dark voice as I close the space between us. "I don't _think_ I'm Jason Voorhees. I fucking _am_ Jason Voorhees. Allow me to introduce myself, bitches: I'm Jessa, Jason's niece. And this here?" I wave my machete at our surroundings and they flinch back, yelping. "This is my home. Stay awhile and me and my best friend here," I jab the machete at the air in front of them, and they scuttle backwards, screaming now, "we'll show you why they used to call this place Camp Blood. Now who's ready for some shish kabobs?"

Mandy's face screws up in confusion. "What the fuck's a fish blob?"  
"This."

Smiling at her, I shove my machete through Ty's chest. Mandy shrieks as he spits a wad of blood in her face. Pale and wide-eyed, she covers her mouth to stop herself from vomiting, watching in disturbed fascination as I use the machete to lift Ty off his feet. He gurgles, spitting blood in my face as I hold him above my head. The new angle causes his body to sink deeper down the blade, ripping the hole in his chest wider as gravity pulls him down to the hilt. A delicious rush washes over me as Mandy cries out Ty's name, attempting to reach for him with a trembling hand.

Fuck, I love when shit gets all poetic.

"Hey," I call to her as Ty moves to grab her hand. Her gaze snaps to mine so fast, I'm surprised she doesn't get whiplash. "Don't look so glum, chum. I got somethin that'll cheer you up."

Her face alights with hope. "You're gonna let him go?"

"Nope. Better. You ready for this?"  
Without waiting for her to reply, I grab Ty's dick with my free hand and give it a sharp twist. He screams in agony as my nails scour his shaft, tearing it slowly from his groin. Warm rivulets of blood and tissue liquid spill through my fingers. Like when Fry touched my arm with his claw, I feel a gush of warmth flowing between my thighs.

He was so right, I think as I rip further into Ty's junk. Killing is fun. Especially when I'm putting my own little spin on it.

With a keen of pleasure, Ty's dick falls freely into my hand. I moan in delight at the tendons still attached. I know just what to do with them.

Fisting the fresh organ, I fling my machete down. Ty's dying corpse lands on the ground with a loud thump. Another mouthful of blood comes out, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Fuzzily, he lifts his gaze to mine as I place my boot next to the hole in his chest. A bubble of blood-tinged spit blows from his mouth as it works to form a single word.

"Why?" I cock my head at him. "Why?! Because you fuckers are trespassing, that's why. And maybe because I'm bored as fuck and I needed something to do. By the way, thanks for the show. I'll make sure to tell Holly what a scumbag you are before I hook her up with Miguel. He's a lot hotter than you, by the way."

"Bit-" his voice gets swallowed by a weak, painful whine as I pull my machete from his chest. I relish again in that wet, sucking sound it makes as it frees itself from flesh. The look on Ty's face though - sheer disbelief a girl bested him - as he expels his final breath, now that shit is like the cherry on top of a cream-topped flan cake.

"Ha!" I smirk at Mandy. "Did you see -? Hey!" I groan at the empty space. My head darts left and right for a sign of her. "She was right there! Where the fuck did she go?"  
 _Too busy playing with your prey to pay attention, hmm? Grandma is disappointed. You know, this wouldn't have happened if_ my _Jason were still around._ My _Jason wouldn't dally with talking._ My _Jason wouldn't have let that stupid girl get away._ My _Jason-_

"Your Jason is fucking dead, Mama Voorhees," I declare out loud, making the voice shut up with a gasp. "It's me Camp Crystal Lake belongs to now. Uncle Jason had his way while he was still alive, and now, it's my turn to do the same. Now shut the fuck up and let me have some fun."


	8. Chapter 7

Mandy is hysterical as she scurries back to camp. "Ohmygod, ohmygod," she repeats with each step, as if saying it will conjure the man and he'll bring some clarity to her. "Ohmygod, what do I do? I can't… This isn't happening."

The shadows filling the trees cover me as I follow her. When she gets too far away from the forest's edge, I concentrate on the masks' innate power to camouflage myself with the camp's surroundings. Cold rushes up my body, flowing through my limbs and firing predatory synapses in my brain. I immerse myself in this hunting power as I follow Mandy, stalking behind her like a lioness moving amongst the tall reeds towards a gazelle.

Up ahead, the rest of her friends are by Holly's set up. Her and Miguel have fired up a grill and are taking Bubba's Burgers out of the cooler. They're laughing, moving with ease, heedless of Ty's absence or the fact that Mandy is rushing toward them, wide-eyed with Ty's splatter covering half her face.

The other guy notices though. "Goddamn, Mandy! The hell happened to your face?"  
His comment stirs the other girls to seek out Mandy. When they take in the state of her appearance, they surround her with hugs and hurried whispers.

"Jesus, Mandy, are you alright? What happened?"  
"Are you hurt?"  
"Why are you bleeding?"  
"It's… it's not mine," she shakes her head, staring off into the space next to Holly's head. "I… guys, I have to tell you some-"

Holly just notices Mandy and cups her hands to her mouth. "Oh my gosh," she puffs, shooting to her feet.

Miguel realizes immediately and puts an arm around her while gazing concernedly at Mandy. "Ay girl, what happened? You get cut by a tree or somethin?"  
Mandy shakes her head but doesn't take her eyes off Holly's. "We were in the woods. Someone - a girl. She - she came out of nowhere and -"

"Wait, we?" Holly's head falls to the side as she mulls over the word. Suddenly, her gaze snaps up to the trees where Ty met his untimely fate. "Mandy, did you see Ty?"

The brunette's head jerks ever so slightly at the mention of Ty. Other than that little slip, she pretends as though she didn't hear Holly's question. But Holly isn't deterred. Before Miguel or anyone else can stop her, she crosses the space between her and Mandy and grabs the shorter girl by her bony shoulders.

"Answer my question, Mandy! Where's Ty? You saw him didn't you? Did something? Where's-?"

"Whoa!" Miguel grabs hold of Holly's waist and pries her off Mandy with a sharp tug. "Jesus, Hollywood! Chill!" he exclaims, catching her wrists as she attempts to break free of him. "You're actin crazy right now, girl. What's up with you?"

"Yeah, really," the other guy says, holding a whimpering Mandy as if she's a wounded kitten. He stares at Holly like he's wondering whether or not she just lost her mind. "Look at what you did to Mandy, Holly. She's shaking."  
"Can't you see she's upset?" one of Mandy's friends jeers, rubbing Mandy's back.

Mandy flinches at her touch. Her friend tries to grab her hand but Mandy shakes her head and with a sharp pivot, takes off towards the docks. Her friend and everyone else watches her in stunned silence, wondering whether or not they should go after her.

"Well, somebody sure is acting guilty," Holly mutters in a dark voice under her breath, starling Miguel, who's looking at her like he's never seen her so vindictive before.

"This ain't like you, chica," he murmurs in her ear as he slips his fingers through her belt loops. "What's going on?"  
"She knows something, Miguel," Holly says, staring him dead in the eye. "I know she does. I saw her sneaking off where Ty went. I'll bet she went back there to fuck him but something happened that interrupted them. Something bad."

"Well, this is Camp Blood," Miguel snickers, causing Holly to shiver. "Aw, come on now, Hollywood. It was just a joke. You know there's actually no real Jason Voorhees right?"

Ha! What a stupid asshole!

Even Holly looks like she can't believe his dumbassery. "Didn't you hear what happened down at Rollins U yesterday?"  
"Nah. Yesterday me and my brothers took a trip to Seaside and I didn't really check my phone much. Why, what happened?"  
"Miguel, a girl killed five people yesterday."

He jumps back, swearing in Spanish. "Jesus Cristo! Are you fucking serious, chica?"  
Holly crosses her arms and fixes him with a stern look. "Miguel, do I look like the type of person to joke about that? Yes, I'm fucking serious! There's videos of her all over Facebook and Youtube. Here, look."

Miguel shifts closer to her as Holly pulls out her phone. As he waits for her to pull up the video, neither of them notice that the rest of their posse has edged closer, a mixture of curiosity and fear alight on each of their faces at Holly's announcement.

After tapping the screen a few times, she lets out a frustrated sigh. "Damn it, I can't get a signal out here. Do any of you guys have one?"

"I don't know," one of the girls say. "My phone's still in the Jeep."

"Yeah, mine too," another one echoes.

"I have mine." Miguel pulls out his phone and hands it over to Holly. She tries to call up the internet but again has no success. "Just tell us then, Hollywood. What happened in the video?"

Holly shudders as she recalls my misdeeds captured on film. It didn't occur to me until now that people would've uploaded me coming out of the Dallas fan's house, all drenched in his and his friends' blood like some psycho version of the Walk of Shame.

Looks like I'm on the path to doing what The Dark Ones want. Fry will be so happy when I tell him tonight.

"There was a girl," Holly says in a slow, soft voice that I and the others have to move closer to in order to hear. "A girl came out of the house she killed everyone in. She… she was dressed like Jason. Clothes, mask, everything. I'm literally talking she looked just like Jason except you can tell it's a girl because the person is tiny and has long blonde hair."

"No way," the other guy huffs, shaking his head. "You're tellin me a chick did all that?"

Holly nods. "And there's more."

"What?" a girl asks, wrapping her arms around her shivering chest.

"The one video I saw showed her going into the lake. She walked out a few feet and then suddenly, the water swallowed her and she disappeared."

"She drowned?"

Holly shakes her head at the girl. "No. The police looked but there's no signs of her body. And there's no way she could've swam anywhere because she had her machete. It would've been impossible for her to get away with it."

"Maybe she left it," the guy offers in a weak voice, like he's trying to convince himself that's nothing to be afraid of. "She probably tossed it in the water, thinking no one would find it. I mean, you said she's a blonde right? We all know what they say about blondes."

Oh, I am so gonna make you regret that, you fucking prick.

"She didn't leave it," Holly insists, but no one seems to be listening to her. They're all trying to convince themselves that what she's saying is only a joke.

"Holly," the girl who yelled at her rolls her eyes. "That's a real cool scary story and all, and I'd really, really love to hear it again, but what does that have to do Mandy or well, anything? Like, okay, we're at the camp that's haunted by that hockey freak, but newsflash, sweetie: None of that is real! It's just a movie! And that girl you saw in the video is just some crazy bitch who's probably been arrested by now."

"But-"

"Even if she isn't," the girl cuts her off with a raised hand. "Rollins U is like, over two hours from here. There's no, no way she could've swam here by herself. Not even Navy Seals can do that and they're like, the best at swimming or whatever."

"That's true," Miguel nods. "My cousin Victor is a Seal. He said they make you swim four miles in order to finish boot camp. But Rollins U is like, over sixty or somethin. Katie's right, Hollywood. There's no way that girl swam here. It's like, next to impossible."

Miguel's words of wisdom seem to settle the matter. The other guy announces he's going to roll a blunt, and the girls go to join him. Meanwhile, Holly stares off in the distance where Ty disappeared, brow furrowed in disbelief at Miguel's judgment.

Miguel sees Holly's still upset. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead simply pulls her in for a comforting hug. "It's really okay, chica. No need to be upset. And really, that whole Jason stuff is only a movie. Still," he pauses, turning to look off in the distance. "It is weird a girl did that. And Ty has been gone for awhile."

"There's something else." Holly taps her phone again and holds it up to him. "Look at the date, Miguel. Tell me that isn't weird."

I move closer so I can see, too. Displayed beneath the bold 4:20 in tiny white characters is a date I know I'll forever love.

"Friday the 13th," Miguel whispers as the other guy starts singing, "Purple Haze" in a horrible off-key voice. Miguel pays him no mind, staring at her phone like he's starting to wonder whether this whole "me" thing is really just a coincidence. "Holly," he looks off at the trees again. "You really don't think-?"  
She pushes past him, stuffing her phone in her pocket. "I'm going to talk to Mandy. I don't know what she knows, but I know it has something to do with Ty."

"I'm coming with-"

"No." Holly stops him with a hand on his chest. Their close proximity makes her blush. Clearing her throat, she drops her hand and averts her gaze to the ground. "Stay here, Miguel. I'll only be a minute."

"Are you sure, Hollywood? I know you don't like the water."

Holly bobs her head assuredly. "I'll be fine. You just have fun and I'll come right back. Try not to get too baked while I'm gone," she adds with a wry smile as she backs away to find Mandy.

Miguel watches her for a second, seemingly torn with wanting to respect her wishes and wanting to be at her side. I can tell by the way he's searching the waters for Mandy that he doesn't trust her, nor that he doubts she knows what happened to Ty by the way his eyes keep darting back to the trees. Just as I think he's going to go after Holly, the other guy brings the blunt over to him.

"Here, man. You look like you need to relax."

"You can say that again," Miguel laughs, pointing the blunt at the trees as he inhales the sweet, earthy taste of Mary Jane.


	9. Chapter 8

Well, ain't this turning out to be a quaint little horror movie?

So in our left corner, we have overprotective Miguel who's totally in L with Holly and he's mulling over the situation Cheech & Chong style with our resident stoner character and eye candies in bikinis. In our right, we have Little Miss Holly Go-Frightly going down to the one place where she fears most to confront the hussy who we all know tried stealing her man and just watched him get turned into a meat skewer. Do we stay to see what Miguel's going to do, or shall we venture on over to see things heat up between Holly and Mandy?

I don't know about you's, but I'm down to see a chick fight.

And besides, I still have Ty's dick clutched in my fist. I decide to stow it in my jacket pocket for safe-keeping, knowing I'll need it for later - for when I kill Mandy.

I stay hot on Holly's heels as she thunders off in search of the busty brunette. Her shoulders tense as her steps start to slow, and I wonder if she can sense me. Is that possible? Goddamnit, would someone please explain the rules? I know my ass ain't the only one wondering what the fuck's going on!

Holly stops with a sharp intake of breath. The blood freezes in my veins as she slowly peers over her shoulder. If she senses me, does that mean she could see me? Her eyes are almost upon me, just a second away from glimpsing my machete when a soft cry sounds from the distance.

Shaking off the chill, Holly forgets about me and goes after the noise. I wait a few seconds before following. This girl is a lot more inquisitive than the others and if I'm not too careful, I could blow my whole cover before it's time to reveal myself. Luckily none of their phones work so I don't have to worry about them calling the police, but there's still the matter of their Jeep and truck.

Aw, fuck. I should take care of that.

But I wanna know what's gonna happen with Holly and Mandy…

 _Do both, Jessa,_ Grandma's voice appears snarkily in my head. I can imagine her rolling her eyes and tutting over how dimwitted I am. Well, fuck you too, lady.

 _I can do that?_ I ask her instead. She's back to helping me and so far, she's done a good job. It'd be dumb to look a gift-horse in the mouth, or however that old-timer saying goes.

 _You can do anything here, Jessa. Camp Crystal Lake is in your control. You are the master and maintainer of this precious place. Anything you wish, you can make happen_.

 _So long as I have the mask and machete,_ I finish, Fry's voice intermingling with mine.

Alrighty then. Let's give this a try, shall we?

I'm not a big Harry Potter fan, but I remember that bit where Dumbledore told Harry about Voldemort splitting his soul in pieces. I close my eyes and concentrate on my own essence doing that. Like an OBE, I tell myself as two overlapping images appear in my head. One of Holly marching up to a crying Mandy by the water's edge, and another of the pristine black Jeep and mud-splattered truck. My eyes screw up tighter as I envision myself in both places. Something stirs in my chest and then, without warning, a surge of crippling pain encompasses my whole body. With a sick, tearing sound, my shadow peels itself from my corporal form and makes its way to the cars. I watch it go with tears in my eyes and deep intakes of breath.

Shit, that hurt - more than I originally thought. But so worth it, I smirk as my shadow stabs the tires one by one, unseen and unheard by the group of four right beside them. In no time, my fascination overtakes my discomfort, and the ache has completely receded from my body. Now time to get back to Holly

If I can split myself in half, then I imagine I can also teleport or whatever. Picturing Holly again, I focus on the overturned canoe I see beside her and Mandy. With a whoosh, my boots leave the ground and I'm floating to the exact spot. I land just as Holly tentatively approaches Mandy as she's using my precious lake water to clean the blood off her face.

"Um, Mandy?"

The girl groans in disgust, but doesn't look at her. "Oh God. What the hell do you want?"

"I just wanted to see if you're okay."

"Do I fucking look _okay_ to you?!" Mandy bellows, pointing at her face as she whips around. Holly's own pales and she steps back.

"What happened to you, Mandy? Did… did you see someone back there?"

Mandy's eyes widen at the direction of Holly's finger. Her mouth puckers, but all she does is grunt as she turns back to the water. "Forget it. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Mandy…" Holly hesitates, biting her lip as she cautiously reaches out. Mandy stills under her hand, but otherwise doesn't object to it. "If you tell me the truth - I don't care what it is. If something happened between you and Ty, well, I know it wouldn't be the first time."

A surprised laugh bubbles from Mandy as she turns her face to Holly. "Seriously? You knew we were fucking?"  
In answer, Holly smiles and rears back, slapping Mandy hard across the face. "I didnt, but now I do. Thanks for confirming what I've been suspecting for months."

"Bitch," Mandy seethes, rubbing her stinging flesh. "What the hell did you do that for?! That fucking hurt!"

"Good," Holly smirks, checking her nails like she just got a fresh manicure. "You deserve it for not respecting my relationship."

"For your information, Ty and I have been hooking up long before you came around. And you wanna know the reason why he started dating you in the first place?" Mandy gets to her feet, palm pressed to her cheek as she takes in the skepticism creeping over Holly's face. "He's a cherry hound, Holly. Do you know what that is? It means he likes to hunt for virgins."

Tears prick Holly's eyes. She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "No. That's not true."

"Isn't it, though?" Mandy cocks her head, narrowing her eyes. "You mean to tell me that Ty really doesn't pressure you into sex? That you two don't fight all the time because you've been going out for a month and yet you still haven't given it up?"  
"Stop it!"

"Come on, Holly. Get with the program already. What the hell do you think happens when guys don't get what they want? You think they're gonna sit around with their dicks in their hands while they wait for you to grow up?"

"Ty knew I was saving myself for marriage," Holly refuted stubbornly, and Mandy replied with a sarcastic snort.

"Of course he knew. That's why he still fucked me - because I don't give a shit about marriage. I just want to fuck, and so did he."

"Did?" Holly's breath hitches on the word. "Are you saying that-?"

Mandy realizes her mistake and backpedals, busying herself with scrubbing her face. "Forget what I'm saying. It's not important and even if it were, you'd just think I'm crazy."

"I think you're a slut, but I don't think you're crazy."

Mandy smirks at the backhanded compliment. "Aw, Hollywood. I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said."

"Don't call me Hollywood."

"Why not? Miguel does."

"We're not talking about Miguel, Mandy. We're talking about Ty and what I know you know happened to him."

Mandy's shoulders stiffen as she turns away. "What makes you think anything happened to him?"  
Holly refolds her arms and glares down at Mandy. "You said so yourself, that blood isn't yours. And you also just said that you were with Ty, which could only mean -"

"What?" Mandy yells, rounding on her with irritation twisting her pretty features. "What, Holly? You gonna say that Jason Voorhees might've done it?"  
"Didn't you hear -"

Mandy stops her with a raised hand. "About that psycho chick yesterday? Yeah, I heard. My cousin is a freshman there. She told me all about it."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"  
"Was it her?"

Mandy frowns. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Something's going on here, Mandy."

"Well, it's not what you're thinking."

"Really?" Holly narrows her eyes in challenge. "Okay, then. Fine. If it's really not what I'm thinking, then let's go find Ty."

Mandy shoots to her feet and yanks Holly back before she can even take a step. "No!"

"Get off me." Holly attempts to shrug her off, but Mandy's grip is too strong.

"Trust me," she says, looking Holly square in the eye. "You don't wanna go back there, okay? I know you have no reason to trust me because of what I've already done to you, but you have to believe me on this, Holly. For real. It's not safe to go back here - for any of us to even be here."

Holly is quiet for a moment as she takes in everything Mandy just said. After a moment, she swallows, nodding, and Mandy loosens her grip on her arms. "I think you're right, Mandy. We should leave."

"I know," Mandy nods, looking as though she might cry. "It was such a stupid idea to come here. I don't know why I suggested it."

"It's not your fault. Ty wanted to come here."

"Yeah, because I told him to."

Holly's head snaps up. "You-?"

"Because of what my cousin told me. I thought… I thought it'd be fun and me and Ty… He said he always wanted to fuck on the dock where Jason died and well -"

Holly raises her hand. "Say one more word, and I'll slap the shit out of you, Mandy."

Mandy backs up and raises her hands in defense. "Hey, you asked."

"You're such a cunt," Holly grumbles as she about-faces back to camp. Mandy watches her in stunned silence before catching up to her.

"Wow, don't you got a dirty mouth? Maybe if you'd put it to work, Ty wouldn't have -"

"Mandy -" Holly warns, raising her hand. Mandy relents with an amused laugh and lets Holly lead her back to the others. I don't miss the way her eyes follow Holly's ass as she aligns herself directly with the redhead's backside.

Hmm. Well, well, well. Aren't things developing deliciously today at Camp Crystal Lake?

Meanwhile, my shadow or whatever has done its job. All the tires on the Jeep and truck have been slashed. For good measure, it also goes under the hood and fiddles with ripping out a few wires - you know, for just in case. How anyone would drive away with all their tires deflated is beyond me, but I guess Uncle Jason's powers like to go for overkill.

Whatevs. Suits me just fine.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I reach out to it and call it back home. It sails through the aether and reattaches itself like a rubber band snapping back in place. My head spins a little and for a second, I swear I can hear Fry laughing in my ear, but as I clear my vision and regain my surroundings, his phantom laughter fades and I'm left with just the sounds of my own shallow breathing.

 _I'd better get used to this,_ I grumble to myself a I take off after them.

 _You're weakening because you're not killing,_ Grandma hisses impatiently. _Stop dallying and get to work, Jessa! The Dark Ones are watching!_

 _And they can keep watching,_ I snort as Holly and Mandy regroup with the others. I _'m gonna get to it, just give me time. It can't always be slash and no flash, you know._

But I know she's right; things are progressing way too slowly. I got a show to put on and an eager audience awaiting the climax. Besides, I can end the other three. They're not the ones the spotlight seems to be following. And like, who cares about one less stoner and a pair of dumb bitches taking up space in the world? More's the pity, I say.

Miguel turns his glazed-over brown eyes as Holly leads Mandy over to them. His thick lips widen in a big smile, and he opens his arms in greeting. "Holly-wood. Where ya been, chica?"  
"With me," Mandy simpers, throwing her arm around Holly's shoulders. "Ain't that right, Hollywood?"

Holly shrugs Mandy off her and goes over to Miguel. "We need to get out of here, Miguel. Now."

"But -" his face screws up in confusion as he takes in her serious gaze. "What about Ty? Did you guys -?"

"Ty's not in the picture anymore, Miguel," Mandy snaps, making Holly wince. Mandy pretends not to notice as she pulls Holly along with her to gather up their stuff. "Holly's right; we need to get the fuck out of here and not look back."

"We'll call the cops for Ty as soon as we're far away to get signal," Holy continues as she helps Mandy throw the untouched liquor bottles in the cooler. "I know it sounds bad, but we can't stay to look for him, Miguel. It's too dangerous."

The stoner catches her words and rolls his eyes. "Aw, come on. You're not still on about that Jason shit are you?"  
"I thought we already settled this," Katie grumps, pinching her brows together.

Mandy rounds on her. "Shut the fuck up, Katie! Did you not hear a word me or Holly just said? Cover up those disgusting moles all over chest and help me and Holly pack up. Don't just stand there! Fucking do it!"

"They're freckles," Katie mumbles, fingering the dark spots on her boobs. "Freckles, Mandy. I tell you all the time. Stop calling them moles because they're not."

"I don't give a shit! Get your lazy ass over here and help us pack up!"

"God," Katie moans as she and the other girl move to join them. "Since when did you and Miss Goody Two Shoes become best friends?"

"You couldn't pay me to be friends with this bitch," Holly snaps as she slams down the cooler lid and proceeds to drag it off to the truck. Miguel comes to his senses and helps her, but Mandy smacks his hands away.

"I got it, Zorro. You and Lenny go take care of the light-work. Me and Miss Fire Crotch can handle one tiny little cooler."

"My hair isn't even really red," Holly huffs as she tugs on the cooler, sending Mandy flying across it as she scrambles to catch up. She gapes at Holly in wonder as she struggles with the end.

"You dye it? No shit."

"I'm actually a dirty blonde. Why do you sound so surprised?"  
Mandy shakes her head. "No reason. But let me just say, I think you'd look a lot prettier as a blonde."

Oh-ho! Ding, ding, ding, we have a crush!

Tune in on next week's episode of _Love Connection: Camp Blood_ edition to find out more about this sizzling pair - and how badly I'm gonna feel about ripping out their hearts and shoving them up each other's snatches. But oh - don't forget about my own steamy affairs with none other than Freddy Krueger's hot grandson! Will we finally kiss or will he leave me hanging again? And will Grandma stop pining for her dead son? Will I stop being a pain in everyone's ass and just kill motherfuckers already? We won't know until this special edition of _Love Connection_ continues!

Hahaha, man I crack myself up sometimes. But no seriously, what's going to happen now?


End file.
